Soap
by windscryer
Summary: Eight one-shots all following two simple themes: Shules and soap. For the Psychfic Shulesathon '09. Summaries, etc., are included in notes for each chapter.
1. Wash It Out With Soap

Disclaimer: We've got everything from dating!fic to established-relationship!fic to full on married-with-kids!fic. This is definitely not canon and therefore I do not own them. ;_;

Flailed over by Lu. Not sure if it counts as betaing, but we'll call it good. :D

**Summary:** Shawn knows he's not supposed to say words like that. Especially in front of the kids.

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"Son of a _bitch!_"

Giggles and some gasps broke out from the group surrounding him as the hammer hit the ground.

He shook his hand and looked at the thumb, then sucked it into his mouth to soothe the sting. That freaking _hurt_.

"Shawn Spencer!"

More giggles and a chorus of "Ooooooh!" in the universal sound of witnessing someone get caught by Mom followed.

Shawn turned to look at his wife, the ever beautiful Juliet Spencer, nee O'Hara.

"I hurt my thumb," he said in a pitiful voice, holding out his hand for her to see.

She was still glaring, but she took it and pulled it close, giving it the expected inspection.

"You'll be fine," she pronounced, but her tone was more annoyed than comforting.

"Kiss it better?" he said, pouting.

She stared and he wiggled the thumb back and forth. "Jules, it _hurts_."

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the amusement that lay just under her irritation. A kiss was pressed to the soon to be bruised flesh, then she turned and pulled him along with the hand she still held.

"Jules, I have to finish the tree house!" he protested, trying to pull free.

"Not until I wash your mouth out with soap for swearing."

"But-"

"You know the rule, Shawn. And we agreed that we'd follow the rules right along with the kids because if they're not supposed to do it, neither are we."

"Can't I just put a dollar in a jar in the kitchen?" he pleaded.

She looked back and arched an eyebrow. "We tried that. It only made you guys swear more."

Giggling followed that from the door leading out back. She glanced over, but he ignored it and grinned.

"Yeah, but think how fast we earned our Disneyworld vacation!"

She rolled her eyes and kept moving into the kitchen, grip on his wrist firm and unyielding.

Before she could grab the soap, though, she was turned around and pressed to the counter next to the sink, Shawn leaning in to kiss her until her head spun and every muscle in her body went limp and then it was a very good thing he was crowding her so close or she'd be on the ground.

"You know," he said, when he finally pulled away--just enough for her to gasp for all the air she'd been deprived of, not so far he couldn't nuzzle her face, planting the occasional soft kiss on her cheeks and eyelids and the corner of her mouth and the tip of her nose, "your pretty little mouth-" He kissed the mouth in question so her slowing pulse kicked up again. "-Isn't as clean as you'd like to pretend. The spirits tell me you still swear at work."

She swallowed, trying to form coherent thoughts through the haze that his light, butterfly strength kisses created every time. "But- Um . . . I- You-" She gasped when he found that spot right under her ear that seemed to be connected to her knees somehow and had the ability to turn them to liquid when kissed. She had to grab onto his arms to steady herself.

He tightened his hold as well when he felt her falter and she could feel him smile against her neck before he kissed his way back to her lips.

Then his hands moved to her waist and she felt another brief moment of vertigo as he lifted her up to sit on the counter.

He kissed her one last time, deep and long and brain-frying in intensity, then pulled back.

She had a vague notion of hearing a strident, "Gross!" followed by shushing from the doorway.

Shawn reached behind her to the sink and grabbed the soap.

"If I get it, so do you," he said, waggling the bar back and forth with that damn grin of his on his face.

She scowled.

"Spirits my ass. I know your secret, Mister."

Shawn's eyes widened and his mouth formed an 'O' of surprise, before the grin came back twice as strong. There were more giggles and another low, "Oooooh!" from the peanut gallery.

"See? Told you."

More giggles came from the doorway and Juliet let her head drop into her palm with a groan.

"Okay fine," she said, lifting her head again, amusement and annoyance warring on her face.

"Damn you're adorable when you do that."

"Do what?" she said, adding, "And that's another one for you."

His grin widened and he kissed her again.

"Make that face," he explained, reaching behind her on the other side to the cupboard. He pulled down a jar from the top level and then retrieved his wallet and pulled out two dollars and put them in the jar.

"Shawn-" she protested.

"Jules," he countered. "Even if it's not going to kill us, soap in our mouths really can't be good for us. And it tastes totally nasty. And I wanna go back to Disneyworld," he said, putting just a bit of a whine into his tone.

She rolled her eyes.

"You know we can go without having to save up money in a swear jar, right? We both make more than enough to cover the cost of a vacation."

"But this is more fun! And the kids get to contribute too."

She snorted. "Somehow, I don't think this is what all those parenting books are talking about."

The back door had gone conspicuously silent.

He pouted, adding the puppy dog eyes, and then pitching his voice in just the right tone.

"Please, Jules?"

She sighed and looked heavenward for strength.

Shawn apparently saw that as an invitation to kiss her on the throat. Which she didn't mind, but it made it hard to stand firm on her idea. Or, you know, even just think.

"Okay fine," she said.

He pulled back and she looked down to see him grinning. "Love you," he said and kissed her again, a quick press of lips.

She blinked rapidly the way she always had to when he said it like that, out of nowhere and just . . . stating it like it was a fact of life, a natural law or something that he was just reminding her of. Just because.

Almost like he didn't even know he was saying it.

"Now it's your turn."

"I love you," she said and kissed him, though hers was neither quick nor a press of lips. Her involved tongues and teeth and her arms around his neck and his thumbs sliding up under the hem of her t-shirt to brush against her skin.

When they finally pulled back he coughed lightly, clearing his throat. "Wow. Uh, that was . . ."

She was pleased to see that for once _he_ was the one light headed and dazed.

Then he shook himself. "That was awesome. But I meant it was your turn to put money in the jar for swearing."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"You said ass."

"You just said ass."

"You said ass again."

"I was just repeating you when you said it first!"

"You still said ass. Twice."

"Shawn-"

He kissed her again, then pulled three more dollars out of his wallet and dropped them in the jar.

"Are you going to be a good example or a bad one?" he asked, jerking his head toward the door.

She looked over to see the faces of all their children pressed up against the screen, wide grins that the most certainly learned from their father on their little mouths.

She sighed and said, "Fine."

She pushed against him and he pushed back and his fingers ghosted along her ribs, tickling a giggle out of her.

"Shawn! Stop it!" she managed to get out between giggles.

"Not escaping until you pay," he singsonged.

"I have to get my purse."

"One of the kids'll get it."

The door exploded open as they rushed inside, racing through into the house to look for it like a speed round of a scavenger hunt.

"Found it!" one little voice crowed and they all came back in a thundering rush of little feet as the youngest of the Spencer clan clutched the bag that was almost half her size to her chest.

She held it up and Juliet accepted it with a, "Thank you."

She dug out the two dollars she owed and put them in the jar to the sound of cheering from her kids.

Shawn was grinning and he kissed her one more time, then helped her down from the counter.

"Now, time to finish the tree house!" he said punching the air with a fist and spawning more cheers. "And then? Ice cream!"

The noisy cheering tumbled out the door as everyone ran to retake their places at whatever task they'd been assigned to do before they were interrupted by Dad's cussing and Mom's momming.

And of course the kissing. Gross.

Shawn and Juliet walked to the door, but before she got out she was pulled back against her husband's chest, his arms wrapping around her stomach and his chin coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Jules."

"For what?" she asked, turning her head. "Being a total pushover?"

He kissed her.

"For giving me everything I ever wanted."

He let her go and slid past her out the door, calling out encouragement and making jokes, the kids laughing and giggling as they got their construction project started again.

She had to stand there for a moment, one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other hand pressed to her mouth as tears welled up that had to be blinked away.

"No, Shawn. Thank _you_."

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Review, plz&thx.


	2. Days of Our Lives at General Hospital

**Full Title: **A Guiding Light for the Days of Our Lives at General Hospital With the Young and the Restless

**Summary:** Juliet's sick and has nothing else to do but she's so sick and tired of watching soap operas. And then she finds out they're marathoning one that ended a few years back: _Explosión de Gigantesca de Romance._

It just _happens_ to be the Chad arc that's on right now. :D

And then Shawn comes home for lunch. Much snuggling and reminiscing ensues.

**Spoilers for 2x13 _Lights, Camera . . . Homicidio_**.

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"Jules?" Shawn could hear the TV playing, though the voices were too low for him to make out the exact dialogue. He shut the door and headed down the hall. "I know you said you didn't want me coming home every five minutes to check on you, but it's lunch time and I thought you probably wouldn't want to have to cook when you're feeling sick, so-"

He was cut off by a burst of laughter and he entered the living room where Juliet was sitting on the couch bundled up in blankets, a trashcan full of used tissues by one foot and another by the other foot with a—so far empty—plastic liner in case she needed to throw up again and couldn't make it to the bathroom in time.

She craned her head and said, "Hi, Shawn," her voice still woefully stuffy. She sniffled.

"What are you watching?" he asked as he leaned over the back of the couch and gave her a kiss.

"Shawn! You're gonna get sick too!" she protested, but she was too well settled to be able to outmaneuver him.

"Nah," he said and circled the couch, plopping down next to her. "I don't get sick. So what's got you giggling in here?"

Just then the commercial break ended and the dramatic music played and the logo splashed on the screen.

His eyebrow arched and she flushed in embarrassment. Well, she _would_ have if she wasn't already flush from the fever.

"_Explosió__n de Gigantesca de Romance_?" he said. "Really? I thought you grew out of this soap opera phase a while ago."

She shrugged. "It was this or game shows. Jeopardy makes me feel stupid even though it's mostly useless trivia and Wheel of Fortune has annoying music. And I swear if I have to listen to Bob Barker tell me to spay my cats ONE. MORE. _TIME_. There will be blood." She sniffed.

Shawn laughed softly and put his arm around her shoulders, kissing her on the cheek.

"You're so adorable and violent when you're sick."

"Shut up." She punched him for good measure.

He just laughed.

"So what episode is-" He stopped when he realized he knew this scene.

Not because he'd seen it before. Well, not from _this_ side of the sceen.

No, he remembered this scene because he was about to be in it.  
_  
"Tengo un paquete para ti entrega . . . especial._" Corrine looked very sultry and dramatic—and kinda slutty—and Chad consulted his clipboard before adding, _"Dice manejar . . . con cuidado."_

She gave a breathy exhalation and more bedroom eyes and the package and clipboard were tossed, then they fell into each others' arms and proceeded to make out.

Or . . . you know, whatever.

"This is so weird watching it like this," Juliet said.

"Like what?" Shawn asked, smiling slightly as he recalled how many times they'd redone this part. Quintessa had been about to strangle him for continually missing his mark, but he'd had fun.

"Well, I saw most of this when you were filming it, but that's totally different because you'd do parts over and over and over again and it all sort of ran together. It's just . . . weird seeing it actually put together, in the proper order, without all the goofs and mistakes and everything. For one thing, it actually makes sense now." She shrugged. "I just . . . wasn't watching it then because it's not really my thing and we were working on another case anyway." She grinned as Chad and Corrine's comical display of melodramatic 'lust' filled the screen and laid her head down on Shawn's shoulder.

They watched in silence for a few moments, then she said, "Didn't they have plans to bring Chad back at some point? I mean, I know he didn't die."

"They did. They actually called me and had the filiming dates set up and everything, but the show got cancelled before it was filmed."

"Bummer."

He shrugged. "It's no big deal. I'm not really interested in an acting career anyway."

She snorted and buried her face against his side, still laughing.

"What?" he said, allowing the grin to show since she couldn't see it.

"Not interested in acting. Yeah, _right_. What do you call the job you have now?"

He feigned offense. "Jules, I am a private detective-"

"No, you're a psychic. A _fake_ psychic. Which requires that you _act_ like a psychic when you're not one." She poked him in the side making him squirm and exhale a sound of distress. "You liar, you."

"Your lunch is getting cold," he pointed out in hopes of preventing further tickling.

She sniffed and leaned forward to grab the food. "What did you bring me?" she asked, almost burying her face in the bag. She lifted it on an inhale, smile curving her lips.

"Mama Rosario's," she breathed out.

"Chicken Noodle Soup with the cold and flu herb mix added and a pineapple smoothie from Jamba Juice with echinacea, zinc, and vitamin C," he said, reaching for the drink tray with the two smoothies. "They said the extra stuff is supposed to boost your immune system, but I think it's the pinapple."

She freed the styrofoam tub from the paper bag and held up her spoon for him to unwrap since her other hand was full and her flu or whatever it was had knocked her dexterity down to almost nothing.

He did so and she eagerly dug into the chunky soup.

"Mmmmmm," she all but moaned. "This is fabulous," she added, but it was in the middle of a second bite.

He squeezed her shoulders and kissed her temple. "You're welcome."

"You can't stay past lunch though," she said, glancing up at him. "You need to finish that case."

He laughed. "I'm not going to stay past lunch."

She eyed him warily. "And lunch ends when I finish my soup and smoothie. Not at five o'clock this evening."

"Damn. So close."

The commercial break ended and the show returned, Chad stealing the scene as he often did.

Shawn had actually considered pursuing another role or two, mostly as something fun to do, but maybe as an actual career. But then, he wouldn't have gotten to spend every day working with Jules and he probably never would have convinced her to _finally_ accept his offer of a date.

And he never would have ended up here on this couch watching reruns of a silly telenovela with his wife.

Besides, she was right. He totally _had_ an acting career, complete with fame and fortune.

Not Tom Cruise or Bruce Willis or Jim Carrey levels of fame and fortune, but who needed that anyway? It had this nasty tendency of turning people into total jerks and he liked being liked, not pandered to because he was famous and then talked about behind his back.

Nope, he had everything exactly the way he wanted.

Well except one thing that Chad managed to get.

He'd really like to be the father of someone's—preferably Juliet's—baby.

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Review, plz&thx.


	3. She Misses Him

**Summary:** She'll never stop coming by every day.

Never stop caring.

Or wishing.

Or hoping.

ANGST WARNING!

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"Your Mom came by today."

She rung out the washcloth so it wasn't dripping and then resumed the gentle strokes of the soft cotton along his leg.

"Did she tell you about her new job? She's in LA now. She said it was so she could come by and help sometimes. I told her that it wasn't _necessary_, but that I appreciate the thought anyway."

Setting the cloth back in the bowl, she took the drying towel and briskly, but gently rubbed his skin dry as she continued to talk about Madeline and how they talked a lot more now.

She folded the sheet and blanket back down over his feet, patted his leg, and picked up the bowl of cooling, dirty water.

"Be right back, Shawn. We need fresh water."

The corridor was quiet this time of day, early afternoon being one of the natural lulls in the daily stream of visitors, and she only had to say hi to a few familiar faces as she made her way to the sink where she could rinse out the bowl and refill it with fresh water, nice and warm.

She didn't have to come here, of course. There was a sink in the room with soap she could use.

But she liked this soap better. It smelled more . . . Shawnish.

And none of the nurses minded.

Cloth rinsed and bowl refilled, she returned to the room.

"I'm back," she said. He didn't answer—he never did—but they said it was good for her to talk to him, that he could hear her even if he didn't appear to.

It also kept her sane.

She wasn't used to him being this still. Not even after all this time.

The next part was a little harder, but she'd had enough practice that she'd figured out the tricks.

First she had to raise the side guard and line it with pillows, meanwhile telling Shawn about how his Dad had taken his cooking hobby to the next level and was teaching community classes though UCSB.

"You ought to see him. His first class was six people, but it keeps growing every week. They said they're cutting him off at twenty per class and won't let him add a second class until this session is over. He's like Emeril with more fishing and cop jokes," she said with a soft laugh.

She rolled Shawn onto his side, making sure his head was on top of the pillow by it and that he wasn't being accidentally smothered.

Retrieving the cloth she washed his back from his neck to his knees, methodically and carefully, continuing the updates on Henry and pausing every now and again to examine spots that looked like they might be developing a bedsore.

"Looks like you get a massage today," she informed him. "You know, if this is all a ruse to get regular massages, you're being an idiot. All you have to do is ask. Any excuse to touch you is a good one in my book."

She finished his back and dried him carefully, then rolled him back into the supine position.

"Be right back," she told him, and went to fetch another round of clean, soapy water.

"Hi Juliet!"

"Hi, Rebecca," she said and smiled at the little wheel-chair bound girl who was making her afternoon rounds of the long-term care ward.

Technically she should be in the Pediatrics unit, but she said it was too boring there and none of the kids ever wanted to talk. Juliet didn't understand that at all.

Rebecca was such a friendly girl that most every patient that could in this area of the hospital would talk to her and even welcomed her visits. They'd made her an honorary candy-striper for her efforts and she wore her little smock and badge with pride as she visited everyone.

She would be sorely missed when her time came to go.

Juliet just wished that her projected six months would end someplace happier than the local cemetary, but Rebecca said that she had a grandmother waiting for her in Heaven and she couldn't keep her waiting. They were going to bake cookies for all the Angels, she said.

Juliet thought the Angels were going to be pretty lucky in six months' time.

Rebecca eyed the bowl. "Is it Shawn's bath time now?"

"Yep."

"Can I come see him later?"

Juliet's smile widened. "I think he'd like that Rebecca. You can read him the next chapter of _Mossflower_ if you're up to it. I probably won't be there, but either Gus or Henry will be."

Rebecca's grin grew wide enough to cause her eyes to crinkle at the corners. "Okay! See you later, Juliet!" she said and wheeled into the room of Mr. Peterson with a cheery hello.

Juliet hummed as she refilled the basin and then headed back to Shawn once more.

"I'm back," she said, shutting the door behind her and flipping the lock.

She didn't want any intruders popping in for this last part of his bath. Though he'd probably just waggle his eyebrows and make a joke about not being ashamed of his body.

She chuckled at the notion, then flipped the blankets up over his chest. She hummed softly as she did this, always thinking it was a little weird to talk about anything or anyone while she was washing Shawn's private areas. He would probably be chatting up a storm if he were able to, trying to appear as though it didn't bother him even as she knew it did.

Once the task was finished she dried and re-covered him, then dumped the last of the water in the sink in his room and rinsed the bowl. She put the wash cloth in the laundry bag and washed her hands, then returned to Shawn's bedside.

She hitched up one hip on the bed and squirted some of the medicated lotion for his massages into her palm and started on his chest.

"Lassiter said last week that he missed having you around. I don't think he meant me to hear it, which is silly. I already knew it anyway." She snorted. "Like anyone could _not_ miss you." Then she bobbed her head. "Well, the criminals of Santa Barbara don't, I'm sure. But who cares what they think?"

She told him how Lassie was looking at buying a new couch and being awfully girly about it, rejecting many candidates because they didn't match the rest of his furniture.

"Gus told him that he needed to stop whining and just pick one." She laughed. "Surprised us all with that." Her head tilted as she swapped the blankets to cover his upper body and reveal his legs. "Surprised himself, I think."

She followed the segue into what Gus was doing, the nice girl he'd met and how she seemed very sweet and all around perfect for Gus.

"I know he wants your opinion." She glanced at the closed eyes and relaxed face on the pillow. "You could always wake up and give it to him. I think you'd like her."

She wiped off her hands and repeated the maneuver from before to expose Shawn's back, sitting on the edge of the bed again to rub the lotion in.

She frowned, having nothing else to report but her least favorite part of the day's updates.

"Chief is getting pressure from above to cut back the resources on your case." She rolled her eyes. "Because two whole detectives who also maintain a full case load are just _so_ many wasted resources."

She snorted. "I think Chief continues to let us work because she knows we wouldn't stop even if she ordered us to."

She rubbed in the last of the leftover lotion into his shoulders and rested her chin on his bicep, sighing.

"It would be a lot easier if you'd wake up and tell us what happened," she said, both chiding and yet wistful. "We're running out of leads and no closer to any answers. We could use your help, Psychic."

She brushed a kiss to his skin and then pulled away, rolling him onto his back and tucking him in once more.

She got up and unlocked the door so the nurses could come in if they needed to, then glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until Lassiter would be there to pick her up for the end of her 'lunch' break.

She sat on the bed and swung her legs up, curling up by Shawn's side, her head on his shoulder.

"I miss you," she said softly. "I wish you'd come back to me."

Shawn said nothing, lying there as he had for the last two months, for all appearances asleep, but never waking up.

Juliet snuggled in and fell silent herself, her tears sliding soundlessly over her cheeks to wet his shoulder as she waited, and wished, and prayed for her husband to return to her.

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